


What They Don't Say

by femmenerd



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Supernatural
Genre: 5 Times, Crossover, F/M, Faith/Dean - Freeform, Fives Times
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-09-15
Updated: 2006-09-15
Packaged: 2018-01-13 16:03:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1232626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/femmenerd/pseuds/femmenerd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><a href="http://archiveofourown.org/users/kashmir/pseuds/kashmir">kashmir</a> asked for “Five Times Dean and Faith made love instead of having sex.” But see, Faith and I are squicked by that phrase (though I do understand the concept, don't get me wrong). I have no idea if this actually follows the rules of the meme, but it’s definitely an experiment in how freaking schmoopy I can get while being as raunchy as possible and never having either of them utter the word “love.” No spoilers for anything except my ‘shippy fanon.</p><p>Originally posted on LJ <a href="http://femmenerd.livejournal.com/125276.html">[here].</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	What They Don't Say

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kashmir](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kashmir/gifts).



He’s going too slow—it’s making her crazy. Slick sweat sliding between them? Good. Deep thrusts reaching _all_ the way up? Awesome. The goddamn snail’s pace at which Dean’s fucking her, however, means he’s holding back on purpose. Bastard. If his cock wasn’t buried inside her pussy, Faith would fucking kick him. She didn’t sign up for mushy, blurry-edges sex. No way, man. That’s not Faith’s style.

“Pick up the pace, Winchester,” she snarls, throwing her hips up in a jerky motion. 

Dean just smiles like molasses and maintains the leisurely tempo.

“I’m not fucking kidding, Kansas. Are you trying to drive me insane?”

He licks a line up her neck, landing wetly by her ear and vibrating, “What’s the magic word, Faith?” into her ear. 

Faith groans and slams her head into the pillow. “Abracadabra?” she says, lifting an angry eyebrow. 

Dean stops altogether, jammed up into her cunt but torturously motionless. “I’ll give you a hint,” he says, pinning down Faith’s wrists. “It starts with a D and ends with an N.” Then he dips in to kiss her, fucking Faith’s mouth with his tongue in the way that his dick’s withholding. Just when she’s almost forgotten about anything else that may—or may not—be happening, Dean pulls his lips away a fraction of an inch and whispers, “Say my name. It won’t kill you.”

“You really are persistent, aren’t ya, _Tiger_?” she grinds out, flipping them both over in one solid motion. Faith locks him down between her knees and begins to put on a show—tits in hand, pinching her own nipples, making a crazy racket. Dean may be a pigheaded son of a bitch, but he’s still a man, and she knows how to get to him. He goes along for the ride, letting her use him like a flesh dildo and before Faith knows it she’s rubbing one, two, three little firecracker orgasms off on him. 

But Dean doesn’t break eye contact when he comes, mesmerizing her with those pretty, green, saucer-wide eyes and she goes off again big time, losing control of her limbs and wits—breathing out a single, uncontrollable syllable: _Dean_. 

The gloating look on his face would almost be funny if he hadn’t won.

***** 

“I want you to fuck me in the ass,” Faith says conversationally, yanking off her top and flopping back on the bed. There’s such a thing as too much foreplay, she thinks. 

“Well hell, you know I’m always _up_ for that,” Dean replies, leering happily as Faith folds herself over, pulling her jeans down over her hips to reveal bare skin. She was planning this. 

Dean trips over himself grabbing lube and a condom, opening both with his teeth and undoing his fly. Faith waits anxiously as he fumbles with preparations she can’t see, and is surprised when he pulls her by the ankles to the edge of the bed, nudging her body around to face him and grabbing the back of her head with one hand to kiss her while his other hand slathers wetness onto the hole in question. “I’m ready,” Faith cries out as he maneuvers a finger in, then another.

“So am I,” Dean answers, kissing her onto her back before lining himself up.

“But—” she begins. He cuts her off with a careful push in.

“Shush now. You know I like to watch, baby.” She’s splayed out, arms stretched wide and thrashing as he moves in and out—standing up straight with the muscles in his neck straining. Faith’d snorted when the lady at the front desk said that the only room left was the honeymoon suite, but there _are_ advantages to these extra-high beds. 

“You don’t like lookin’ at my butt?” Faith hitches out. 

“Sure I do, but I like your face too,” Dean says, reaching down to swirl his fingertip on her clit. After she comes, Faith grabs his arm and brings his hand to her lips, staring up as his eyelashes flutter and he loses himself also.

“You’re so fucking hot,” Dean mutters into her damp skin after he collapses. And she marvels at how he makes nasty seem so sweet. 

***** 

Faith loves giving blowjobs. Because if you’re doing it right, the guy gets all incoherent and melty and that’s _power_ right there.

“I’m gonna suck your cock,” she says, pushing Dean against the wall, palms smooshing into the cotton stretched over his chest.

“Hey, no complaints here.” His eyes close and he exhales through his mouth as she glides down onto her knees. Faith’s glad because this way she can watch him go without Dean knowing about it. 

Unbuckle, zip, and he’s hard as a rock against her tongue. Lick, suck, a finger in the ass and he’s all hers, moaning and groaning and smashing his head back with a dull thump.

“Fuck! Faith—I—you’re—oh my god!”

The deeper she takes him in, the louder he gets, and Faith gazes up at his freckles and breathes in his sweat, feeling herself shake.

When he rockets off, she’s almost sorry because Dean’s so fucking pretty this way. 

*****

“When you, um—when you _make love_ , is it good?”

Buffy’s biting her lip and blushing as she asks the question. She’s trying to be all sisterly and that’s just a hoot. Faith and Buffy? Were never sisters. They weren’t that “special” something _else_ either, because Buffy wasn’t having it. But even if Buffy won’t admit to the deep down lesbatronic feelings that Faith’s fairly sure are in there somewhere, she’s no prude (not anymore). So Faith doesn’t know why B insists on pussyfooting around this way sometimes. It makes Faith want to shake her. 

“When we _fuck_ , you mean? Hell yeah, it’s friggin’ awesome. I mean, you’ve seen him, right? Boy who handles a gun like that knows what to do with a woman.”

Buffy stammers. Faith grins. Actually, this is kind of fun.

Later though, when Faith calls Dean on a borrowed cell phone, she asks, “What would you do to me, if I were there?” and waits, breathless, for him to say something so dirty that it’ll distract her from how much she misses him. 

“Kiss you for about three years at least.”

Faith slips down the wall she was leaning against, almost dropping the phone. 

“You still there?” Dean asks through crackling static and Faith’s radio silence.

“Yeah.” Faith lets out an annoyed sigh. “I just hate England. It always rains here.”

“Then come home already. We’ve got plenty of monsters to kill and it’s dry as hell in Oklahoma right now.”

“Is that where you are? Can you stay put for a day or two?”

“Sure thing, sweetheart. I’ll see you soon.” 

*****

Faith’s half-awake when Dean reaches for her, wrapping his arm around her waist and pushing away the hair from the back of her neck with his nose so he can plant his open mouth there, twirling his tongue against her night-chilled skin. She keeps her eyes closed and pretends to still be asleep, shivering as his fingers move down to stroke the inside of her thigh.

There’s nowhere else she’d rather be.


End file.
